Daisy Chains and Dementors
by tea and frangipani
Summary: The Ministry of Magic owes the Council some money, so Buffy pops by to gently persuade them to pay up.


Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter series or from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It's all in fun; no money's being made.

A/N: So…I've never ever written a BTVS fic, so I'm a little apprehensive. Make that way apprehensive. I'm not sure if I like the way this turned out…but I have no beta, so it'll have to do. This is in response to justaguy's Collection Work challenge. I was going to do this much shorter, but it kept on going and going. It's set right where Harry gets called it for his hearing in OotP. Move the date forward a few years, so the timeline of HP aligns with BTVS. Set post Chosen for BTVS. Ooh, and it's a one shot.

Daisy Chains And Dementors

"So, to get to this so called _'Ministry of Magic'_, I have to go inside a phone booth?" Buffy asked into her cell phone dubiously. She glanced up and down the dinghy London street covered in graffiti. Why had she let Giles talk her into coming here? Sure, she wanted to keep on helping, despite the sudden increase of Slayers, but she wasn't thinking about getting relegated to money collecting when she asked for the job.

"That's what Giles told me!" Willow said confidently. "So, do you see a red telephone booth?"

"Yeah, but it's pretty broken down," Buffy answered critically. "It doesn't look like the entrance to a government building."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Willow said cheerfully. "Just get inside it!"

Buffy sighed and picked her way through the trash littering the street, and let herself into the cramped phone booth. "Who am I, Superman?" she muttered as she closed the door.

"Well, you kinda are, since you know, you're pretty super, with the super powers and all, but then again, you're not a man. You're a girl, well a woman, so I guess you'd be Super_woman _'cause being Superman doesn't make any sense…" Willow babbled.

Buffy coughed loudly. "Way with the babble, Will. So tell me what to do."

"Well, in Giles' notes, it says you dial 62442 into the phone, and somehow it opens up an entrance to the Ministry of Magic. And then I guess you talk to the Minister of Magic and get the money."

"Right! Fudge or Caramel or whatever his name is. Anything else you need to know?"

"Well…" Buffy could hear Willow flipping some pages. "Apparently they use wands."

"Wands?" Buffy asked in disbelief. "Like broomsticks and cauldrons?"

"I dunno, it says they use it to focus their magic." Willow answered, sounding a bit unsure. "Ooh! Look at the time. Kennedy's going to be home soon, and we're having a romantic night out."

"Have fun," Buffy said, a smile on her lips. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I won't be having any." She flipped her cell phone closed and stared forlornly at the grimy telephone. Lifting it up grimly with her fingers (who knew what kind of unhygienic person or thing could have touched it?) she dialled 62426. That was the number, right? Buffy waited expectantly.

Nothing happened.

Well, she must've gotten the number wrong. It was probably…44246.

Didn't work either.

26426. 62424. 42426. Buffy dialled frantically. Why did they make secret password code-things so hard to remember? Obviously it was some sort of sadistic pleasure for someone who was probably laughing at her own distress…

"Er, excuse me miss, are you having some trouble there?" a kindly voice asked in a British accent.

"I'm just trying to get into this stupid Ministry of Morons!" she answered absent-mindedly. Ooh, maybe it was something easy, like 12345? No luck.

"Oh! The Ministry of Magic. I thought you were maybe a Muggle." The voice answered in a relieved sort of way.

Buffy turned. Standing just outside the telephone booth was an older man, going bald, but with strands of bright red hair still covering his head, and a painfully thin, frightened looking boy with a shock of black hair who could have only been about fifteen.

"Right…" Buffy replied hesitantly. "Mubble. I am so not that. Anyways, do you know how to get into the Ministry?" she asked brightly.

"Oh sure, the number is 62442," the redhead replied, squishing into the phone booth. Buffy found herself hunched up against a wall, facing the teenaged boy.

The older man dialled 62442, and a cool female voice said, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Buffy was still holding the receiver in her hand. She held it up gingerly to her face. "Well…I'm Buffy Summers…and I'm here to talk to Mr. Caramel or Fudge or whatever about some money he owes." She handed the receiver to the redhead.

"Uh, and I'm Arthur Weasley, from Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing…"

"Thank you," the voice answered. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

Three square metal badges clinked through the coin return chute. Buffy picked hers up (_Buffy Summers, Collecting Money From Mr Caramel or Fudge) _and pinned it to the front of her blouse, wondering what the heck a robe was. Was it the sort of ceremonial robe Willow wore sometimes when doing spells? She tried to glance surreptitiously at her companions' badges. For Arthur, the redhead, it said _Arthur Weasley, Escorting Harry Potter _and for the scared-looking teenager, who she supposed was Harry Potter, it read _Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing_.

"Disciplinary Hearing, huh?" Buffy asked conversationally. "What'd you do, burn your school down?"

Harry exchanged an anxious glance with Arthur. "I used magic in front of Muggles," he said hesitantly.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "You used magic? Wow, what a crime. I mean, it's not like you _killed_ someone. Unless you killed someone, using magic. Then that's pretty horrible of you.'"

Harry's eyed widened even more.

"Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far side of the Atrium." The female voice said. With a shudder, the telephone booth started to sink into the ground.

"Hey!" shouted Buffy. "What's going on?" She watched as the ground rose up past the windows. "I've changed my mind. I don't want to talk to the Minister. I'd like to go back to America, please!" She tried to open to the door, but they were already sinking too deep into the ground, the phone booth shrouded in darkness. Well, she wasn't a Slayer for nothing, right? As she prepared to kick the top off the phone booth _somehow_, she felt a hand clasp her shoulder. Tensing, she fought down the instinct to flip him over her shoulder, as they were tightly crammed into a phone booth.

"Calm down," Arthur said. "This is the way to get to the Ministry. It'll be stopping soon."

"Oh, I get it. Secret passageway. Right. All's good." Buffy was glad no one could see her blush in the dark. Really, she should just expect crazy things to walk up to her and slap her in the face. Her life was pretty weird, after all.

"You're from America? Why are you meeting Fudge?" the Potter kid asked softly.

"Well, Fudge owes some people money, and those people sent me over to collect it," she answered, cracking her knuckles, not realizing how threatening that sounded in the dark.

"Er…that's nice." Arthur replied uncertainly. The phone booth grounded to a halt. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day." The voice said, and the door swung open. Arthur Weasley quickly pulled Harry's arm and they disappeared into the crowd, but Buffy hardly noticed. She was too busy gaping.

It was a fancy place, with polished floors and a blue ceiling that, she noted apprehensively, was _moving_. Lining the right and left wall were magnificent fireplaces, with people stepping out of them (how that worked out, Buffy didn't want to know) and others waiting to step into them. In the middle of the hall was a fountain, with gilded statues of what seemed to be a man, a woman, one of those half-man, half-horse things, and the last two she wasn't sure of what they were at all. Everyone she could see were hundreds of people, dressed in long shapeless dresses and pointy hats, hurrying this way and that, most of them heading towards a set of splendid golden gates.

Really, it didn't match up to the Council's new headquarters, Buffy thought smugly. There were no priceless artefacts, no gleaming weapons, and no screaming teenage girls. Where was the class?

Buffy wondered where she could find Mr. Caramel. Some of the magic-people hurrying around her were giving her odd looks, probably because she was so fashionably dressed, but none of them seemed like they would stop and give her directions. Right now, they were just ignoring her or sending her derisive looks, but that was just the jealousy talking. She decided the best course of action would be…to follow everyone else.

She joined into the flow heading towards the golden gates, getting jostled and occasionally elbowed (which she would retaliated with a well-aimed shove). The crowd went past a desk with a sign that said _Security_, but the man sitting there was just reading a newspaper. Top-notch safety measures, that was.

As Buffy passed the gates, she found herself in a small hall filled with elevators. So, now where did she go? Beside her, an elevator arrived, and Buffy pushed and darted her way through the crowd, despite some angry, and in her opinion, totally unnecessary remarks. As she crammed herself into the elevator, she found herself face-to-face with Harry.

"You again!" she said, delighted. Several women with pointy hats frowned at her. She ignored them. "I suppose you're going to your hearing now?" She felt sympathetic towards the poor skinny teenager. He hardly looked threatening enough to have done anything _really_ bad. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll win," she said confidently.

He gave he a weak smile. "Hopefully. I really want to stay in school. I don't want to get expelled."

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, that's happened to me before. Not that fun. But I guess I was kinda asking for it after I set the school on fire."

The man next to her (also wearing a pointy hat. Now it was just getting ridiculous!) gave her a scared look.

Harry looked like he didn't know whether to believe her or not. "Are you still going to talk with the Minister?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah!" she grinned. "If only I could find him. Do you have any idea where he could be?"

"Probably at my hearing," he offered tentatively.

She looked at him admiringly. "Harry, that must have been some crazy magic you were doing, if you got Mr Caramel _himself_ to discipline you! It was always my principal who was after me. Are you some sort of celebrity?" she asked him jokingly.

He looked to the floor and flattened his hair down. Buffy noticed the wondering and awe-filled looks most of the elevator's contents were sending him. _Was_ he a celebrity?

"Holy crap," Buffy said appreciatively. "You _are_ some crazy bad-ass celebrity, aren't you? Did you star in 'Wizards Gone Wild', or something?"

Harry looked startled. "Not exactly…"

The elevator was slowly emptying as they stopped at each level. Now there was only Harry, Arthur, Buffy, and another woman who was reading something.

"Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."

Everyone left the lift, with Buffy trailing behind them. "I'll just follow you to your hearing," she said cheerfully. "And I'll meet up with Fudge there."

A wizened old wizard ran up to Arthur, panting and puffing. "Urgent news!" he gasped, "They've changed the boy's hearing – it starts at eight down in old Courtroom Ten – "

"Merlin's beard!" yelped Arthur. "We should've been there five minutes ago – quickly Harry! If we had missed it…we need a lift!"

Buffy smirked. "Already got one," she answered, holding open the golden grille of the elevator they just exited so it wouldn't close. "Hop on in!"

The trio entered the elevator, with Arthur muttering under his breath "Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!"

Finally they exited into the Department of Mysteries. They piled out and Arthur led them down a flight of steps. As they ran down the stairs, Buffy said genially, "Well, Harry, it seems like the public doesn't like you so much if they changed the time of your hearing without telling you! I guess you have a love-hate thing going on with your fans."

Harry was pale as a ghost and didn't answer, as they ran through another corridor. They skidded to a halt in front of a dark door with a gigantic lock on it.

"In here!" Arthur gasped. "I can't go in – I'm not allowed – Good luck!" He pushed Harry through the door.

Buffy made a move to follow but Arthur held out an arm.

"Sorry, but we can't go in," he told the blonde.

Her eyes narrowed. "But I need to speak with Mr Caramel!"

"No, it's not that they won't let you in. The _door_ won't let you in. Only if you're authorized."

Buffy raised an eyebrow and tried the knob. True to his word, it didn't open.

"We'll just have to wait," the redhead said miserably.

"Luckily, I have a quicker solution." Buffy said with a grin. She smoothed down her skirt, and with a feral cry, kicked the door open with a bang. It swung open, hanging on its hinges.

"See? Much quicker."

She strode through the open doorway, leaving behind a flabbergasted Arthur Weasley. Immediately, as she stepped through the room, all eyes turned to her, including Harry's, who was seated in a chair in the centre of the room. She noticed the chains draping his chair and the very frightened way he held her eyes. Beside Harry was a serene-looking elderly wizard seated in a comfortable looking armchair.

"Who – Who are you? This is a Disciplinary Hearing! Only members of the Wizengamot can come –" a portly man seated at the front bellowed.

"Look, mister, I could care less what a Whizzygame is. I'm here to speak with, uh, Mr. Caramel." Buffy said confidently, ignoring the stares of the people seated around her.

"Mr Caramel?" someone asked confusedly.

Buffy stared at her badge, trying to read upside down. "Oh, right, I meant Mr Fudge. I'm here on official Watcher business."

Something flickered in the man's eyes. Fear. "The Ministry has no dealings with the Watchers Council!" he retorted. "Now leave! Aurors, arrest her!"

"I'm afraid, Mr Caramel – " "It's Fudge!" he howled. "Whatever. The Council has waited long enough. We want our money _now._"

Fudge was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

Buffy cleared her throat and showily pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. "Let's see…August 1900. The Council completed domestication of the Dementrius demon, common name Dementor. The Council granted the Ministry of Magic the right to use these demons to police Azkaban. In return, the Council would be paid one million gallons."

"You mean galleons," put in one of the witches seated in front.

Buffy sent her a particularly fierce glare. "Due to the Goblin Rebellions of the time, the Ministry had no access to their funds since the Goblins had secreted them. Therefore payments were put off." She sent Fudge a steely glare. "We want that money," she told him fiercely. "Like, now."

"Minister Fudge, is this true?" a monocle-wearing witch demanded.

Fudge squirmed. "Perhaps it has some truth to it, Madam Bones," he admitted. "But it was the fault of our elders, not me!" he defended.

"Dementors were supposedly dark creatures at worst, but demons? How is it possible for the Ministry to have even a semblance of control over these nefarious creatures? I have to say, after this young girl's revelations, Mister Potter's so-called 'cover story' that Dementors attacked him doesn't seem so far-fetched." Madame Bones replied sternly.

"Wait a sec. Dementors? Attacking someone?" Buffy interrupted dubiously. "That seems _pretty_ far-fetched to me."

Madame Bones stared down at the tiny blonde. "Young lady, Dementors are the vilest creatures that roam this earth. They suck away all happiness, all good thoughts, until nothing is left but a shell…"

"Well…yeah…but we domesticated them. They were like docile little puppies by my understanding," Buffy countered. "You gave them their gum, right?"

"Gum?" repeated Madam Bones dazedly.

"Yeah, you know, they love that stuff!" continued Buffy. "Apparently all kinds was good, but they especially like gumballs…give them that sugary sweetness once a week and they'd be making daisy chains!"

"We…I…that's incredible. We had no idea." Madame Bones answered numbly.

"The Council told you how to keep them domesticated!" Buffy retorted sternly. "You should've followed their instructions."

"We did!" interrupted an irate Fudge. "We fed them the best Wizarding gum there is, but they simply wouldn't eat them!"

"Well, then you've found the reason why Dementors are attacking! Wizarding gum is unsatisfactory compared to the regular kind! All that magic, not enough sugar. Really, it's almost cruel; depriving them of the sweetness they need to keep sane. Just buy a crate of that twenty-five cent, radioactive pink gumballs. It'll last you a year, I bet." Buffy paused. "By the way, you still owe use a million galleons. That's about 7 330 000 US dollars."

Fudge slumped down in his chair. "Somebody take her to Gringotts," he muttered.

"I will," offered Harry. "As will I," added Dumbledore

Fudge groaned. "Very well, but you're coming back right after!" he menaced Harry.

Madame Bones cleared her throat. "I'm afraid that won't be necessary. With the revelation that we do _not_ have absolute control over the Dementors, along with the witness testimony, I think it is safe to say Mister Potter was not lying about these…demons."

Fudge grew red in the face, but said nothing.

"Finally! We're outta here." Buffy declared loudly. "Land of Tweed is more than I expected. Let's head to Gringepots and get the money."

"Bye Harry! Bye Bumblebee!" waved Buffy as she left, hoisting a large sack over her shoulder. The sack was full of galleons she had collected from the Ministry's funds in Gringotts. Dumbledore had offered to lighten it for her, but it was simply to carry with her super-strength. She was going to miss them all. The goblins were quite interesting, apparently one of them knew Anya; she had kept an account at Gringotts. Buffy made a note to tell Xander once she returned.

"We hope the Council will return to the Wizarding World someday," Madame Bones said solemnly. "Our two groups will be able to do great things."

"Sure," Buffy said, popping a lollipop into her mouth. It was the Wizarding kind, and it tasted _exactly_ like ice cream. It was amazing. She could feel it melting in her mouth. "But don't call us, we'll call you." She turned to leave and caught sight of a man who caused so much trouble.

"Later Fudgey!" she called as she passed the chubby Minister, who turned red with rage. Well, that was one person she would definitely _not_ miss.


End file.
